The White Knight and the Black Queen
by Kung-fu Blaziken
Summary: If it hadn't gone wrong for Ozma and Salem...


_So a funny idea occurred to me after watching the third episode of RWBY Season 6. As I sat there, reeling from the Greek tragedy that is the true origins of Salem, a little thought burst into my head:_

If Ozma and Salem hadn't had the mother of all divorces, everything would have changed and they would have gotten their happy ending.

 _And the more I thought about it, the more I realized how close Salem was to not being the Big Bad of the world of Remnant. Sure, she was a warlord, but she and her husband had decent intentions. We don't see much of how they ruled, but there's nothing to say they weren't decent at being a king and queen. Their kingdom is described as being prosperous, after all. Despite being infected with the essence of Grimm, Salem looked to be a loving wife and mother, so with the right support structure, it was likely she never would have regressed into the worst of a Grimm's bloodthirsty tendencies. It looked like being a warlord was a decent channel for those sorts of thoughts. And Ozma? Well on his way to fulfilling his mission from the God of Light and uniting humanity. It probably would still have taken a number of generations, but he was on a decent start. And he was with the woman he loved, and they had a family. That's practically bonus points._

 _And it was all undone. Whether he intended to just get the kids out of the line of fire or leave for a time altogether, Salem caught them in the act and the apparent abandonment hit every single one of her issues with a sledgehammer. And thus, an incredibly messy divorce and the start of Ozpin's Forever War against a bitter Salem. It was THIS CLOSE to a happy ending for both of them, and instead, chaos, destruction, and woe._

 _So call me either a devil's advocate or Uatu the Watcher as I ask a simple question:_

 _ **WHAT IF…?**_

* * *

 **The White Knight and the Black Queen**

" _Heed this warning: where you seek comfort, you will only find pain."_

But the God of Light had been wrong.

" _We could become the gods of this world. Our powers surpass all others, our souls transcend death. We can mold these lands into whatever we want…what you want. Create the paradise that the old gods could not."_

And Salem was right. They had underestimated the size of the task by a large margin, but she hadn't been entirely wrong.

And then came the night. The night when Ozma told his wife and queen everything. She had dismissed it, claimed that now that there was proof that their children had magic, the old power of humanity could live again. Replace the current crop of humans with the demigods they used to be.

In the old tale, this had been where Ozma's heart had changed, the moment he decided to take a different path, a path that would lead to tragedy and lifetimes of hopeless toil, all in the name of what was supposedly right.

This tale, however, this night…something changed…

 **oOo**

"We can't…"

Salem stopped short.

"Can't?" she asked.

"We set ourselves at the new gods of this world. Isn't it our duty to shepherd them, not destroy and replace them? I thought we were trying to be better than that?"

Salem opened her mouth to rebuke her husband…but found that she couldn't.

"I'm not saying prevent our daughters from having children," Ozma said, "That would be insane. I'm saying we have a responsibility to these people. We cannot turn our backs on them."

Salem was looking at him, unsure, but Ozma had another idea.

"Karl and Gerda. Jeeves and Cass. Pat and Leo. Our servants, our generals, our helpers. Remember last week when Cass helped the girls plant a garden? Remember how proud Leo looked when we promoted him to general? Salem, do you honestly think you could look any of them in the eye if you went through with this plan? That you would not see their faces in your nightmares if you stood by and let them and their families die for the sake of some mad replacement scheme?"

That did it. Salem leaned back against the desk, her hand over her mouth.

"We have to be better than the old gods, that was our goal. Part of that is being honest with our people, caring for them in ways the brothers didn't. That idea you had? It goes against everything."

"Honesty," Salem whispered.

She walked over to the window, placing her hand on the cool glass as she gazed out at their kingdom, the landscape glowing softly in the moonlight. Ozma gave her a minute. He learned long ago that his wife was a deep thinker, and when she gazed into the middle distance, it was best to let her go.

Then he heard her breath catch. Then he saw her fingers curl.

"Honesty," she said in a quivering voice, "But I haven't been honest with you…"

"What do you mean?"

She continued to look out into the night as she spoke.

"I told you that the gods cursed me with immortality in retaliation for my attempts to subvert the cycle of life and death. I told you that they later wiped humanity from the earth. I didn't tell you what happened in between.

"I was just so lonely. I wanted to see you again so desperately, but nothing I did worked. No blade could cut my skin, no poison could harm me. What damage I sustained from magic was healed almost instantly. So I redirected my efforts, sought to punish the gods for their actions, steal their power somehow in the hopes that I could undo what had been done. I turned the hearts of men, gathered an army…and the God of Darkness smote them all in an instant, along with all of mankind, punishing them for my actions.

"They left me alone with my grief and hate and I just wanted it all to stop, so I thought the pool of destruction could undo what the pool of creation had given me…but it didn't. It didn't stop. None of it stopped."

In a flash, Ozma understood everything. His anger at the secret kept, of the way she childishly lashed out at the gods, was submerged in worry. The black pools, the brothers Grimm…that was why she'd been altered, why she bore the physical traits of the monsters.

"And from then on until the day we reunited, I carried so much anger and hate that I could barely stand it. It was as if every dark thought I had was increased tenfold. I wanted to punish the world for what it did to us…and I still do."

Salem looked back at her husband with tears in her eyes.

"I thought doing this, being better than the old gods, spreading our word with silk and steel…but I can still feel the hate, and I don't know what to do anymore."

Ozma didn't hesitate, rushing forward and folding her into his arms. He let her weep into his chest for a moment before speaking.

"We can discuss your actions another day. Right now, I'm more concerned about what mental effects the pool might have had."

"Some days, it's easy to ignore," she whispered, "I can find joy in your embrace, in the laughter of our children…other days, I watch fountains of blood in my crystal for hours, finding myself enjoying the violence…"

"Have care, my love. We will figure this out."

He pushed her away slightly to look into her eyes. He freely admitted that their red hue had shocked him initially, but he still found the spark of the woman he loved within them. He'd grown to love the red just as much as he'd loved the blue.

"We cannot change the past. We can only learn from it. We can only strive to be our best selves, and spread that goodness to others."

She gave a brief laugh, her face and voice still wet with emotion.

"Still my white knight."

"Always," he said, kissing her lightly.

 **oOo**

Time passed…

Ozma and Salem continued to expand their kingdom, bringing ideas of justice and harmony to a world filled with strife. They also sought out the relics, to keep appraised of where they were and protect their power from falling into the wrong hands.

The Spear of Creation proved to be the easiest to arrange safeguards for. They found that proximity to the holy relic suppressed the bloodlust within Salem, allowing her to think completely clearly for the first time in ages. She wept in relief for hours when they found out. From then on, she kept the spear either nearby or on her person, using its power to help keep her mind and emotions in balance.

The others were protected via an idea their eldest, now grown, daughter had thought of. While Salem's power and Ozma's trained army had helped, the creatures of Grimm still ravaged the world. The eldest had proposed a special branch of the army, the best fighters on the planet, dedicated solely to hunting and destroying the Grimm.

And thus, the first Huntsmen were born, with the Lamp of Knowledge secreted away in the depths below where they made their home.

And so time continued to pass. Their daughters, while long-lived, turned out not to have inherited their mother's immortality, and soon died. Salem had been destroyed, but the knowledge that her husband would still be there helped ease her pain. The two withdrew from public life, leaving their kingdom to their grandchildren.

Ozma and Salem began to watch humanity grow and change from afar…

 **oOo**

The man picked his way through the dense forest, intent on his goal. Everyone who he met on his journey had warned him away from the Black Forest, but he knew his goal.

Privately, he marveled. This place used to be a barren wasteland. While the pools of Grimm still existed, and the area around them was still rocky, much of the old lands had given way to lush, if dark and twisted, greenery.

"She's putting that spear to good work…"

Finally, after days of travel, he came upon it. The castle was large and imposing, crafted of black stone. He went up the door without fear and opened it. The old hinges creaked, sending echoes through the castle.

He strode in…

A black miasma blossomed into being. From the haze, a figure formed. A scowl sat on her pale face, and she brandished a golden spear that contrasted with her black clothing.

And then she stopped, her mouth agape.

"Learn a new trick while I was gone, my black queen?" he asked with a smile.

She cast the spear aside and rushed forward, embracing him.

"It has been too long, my white knight."

She broke the hug, dipping into her pocket to retrieve a golden ring. She gave it to him, a loving smile on her face.

"Come, I'll put on some tea."

Slipping on the carefully maintained wedding band, he followed her.

 **oOo**

"So this is, what, your fourth lifetime?" Salem asked.

"Approximately," her husband replied, sipping some tea, "I don't really count that one where I die as a small child."

"Right, I remember leaning on some doctors and kings until that disease was eradicated. Forgive me, sometimes the years blur together."

"Understandable. You'll be interested to know of the slight warping the common language has undergone. Somehow, my name went from Ozma to Ozpin."

"Ozpin," she hummed, "I like it. I miss the white hair, though."

"Give it time," Ozpin replied, tugging at his brown locks.

"So what else has been going on out in the world?" she asked.

"You'll be happy to know that our daughter's brainchild is up to three academies. There's talk of settling the northern continent, so maybe one day it will be four."

"That snowy waste?" Salem scoffed, "I can't think of much there that would interest anyone."

"Three gold pieces says that they find something," Ozpin replied with a smile.

"Deal. I might have to owe you, however. I don't go out much, so I don't have any modern currency."

"Our descendants don't send word to you?" he asked.

"No, they do. Not as often as they used to, however. I suppose we're starting to slip into fairy tale. The other month I slipped into a nearby town in disguise, and I overheard a puppeteer telling children the story of 'The Girl in the Tower'."

The disgust in her voice was thick enough to be tangible.

"I'll never understand how that story even exists," Salem grumbled, "It was pre-devastation, for goodness sake!"

"Stories are resilient," Ozpin replied, "My father in this lifetime is a bookbinder, so I have some idea. I did come across a retelling of my accomplishments pre-devastation once."

"Oh? I take it you were insulted?"

"Laughed my ass off," Ozpin smiled smugly, "If I actually did half of those things, I'd have been capable of breaking the tower with one punch. I suppose one can't argue against the power of imagination."

"I hate you," Salem growled, her red eyes flashing briefly.

"No you don't."

They continued to speak at length of the world. Since withdrawing from their old kingdom, both had taken on a more distant role in shaping the world. Watching from afar or taking the streets in disguise, interfering where necessary and advising the various rulers of the world. This was their lot as the Gods of Remnant. It was less involved than being rulers and warlords, but as time passed, their ways had matured. They had learned the importance of the long view, of where to take a hard stance and where to let humanity work things out on their own.

"It's like teaching," Ozpin had said once, "The student doesn't learn anything if you do the work for them."

However, while Ozpin was content with the new way, Salem often felt she needed more to do…

"I want to put myself back out there," she said as they laid in bed one night, "I spend too much time looking at the world through crystal. I want to take more actions."

"No offense, my love, but your usual options aren't exactly…subtle."

"Is that a crack at my tendency to throw lightning at things and be done with them?"

"Quick, yes. Effective, most of the time. Subtle, decidedly not. Besides, you tend to stick out in a crowd."

"Glamour charms. Easy disguises. But you don't get my point. I know you're worried about me falling into bloodlust like I did in our early warlord days, but I need to _do_ something. I feel like our great plans, our spreading of the word, it's stagnating."

Ozpin thought for a moment, but couldn't deny that. While there were plenty of prosperous kingdoms, and their home continent was now a beacon of peace, there were still plenty of places in the world where strife existed. Generations after they stepped away, and despite their efforts behind the scenes, things hadn't progressed as much as they'd like.

"Very well. Where you do want to start?" he asked.

 **oOo**

And so began the legend of the Black Queen.

Across Remnant, stories would be told. Of a woman with black clothing and stark white hair and skin, her red eyes glowing like embers and her golden spear shining like the sun. She appeared out of nowhere and battled the forces of evil and darkness. No Grimm could stand against her, and no wicked man could touch her.

She was able to travel vast distances quickly. She would appear to defend a small community from a Grimm attack one day, then appear in a larger city the next to put down criminal activity.

Sometimes she was alone. Sometimes, she was accompanied by a knight in shining white armor. In either case, they fought like earthbound gods, unleashing power unmatched in the world.

Some people compared them to magi, people born with magical abilities. However, magi were rare, the gifts not passing down to their children with complete reliability. And in any case, the Black Queen and the White Knight showcased abilities far outstripping what magi were capable of.

Others, from the kingdom of Mecca on the continent of Draconis, compared the two to legendary rulers from their kingdom's past. The fabled founders of Mecca, Ozpin and Salem, had showed godlike power in their time. In fact, legend has it their children had been the ultimate source of what magi existed, their gifts passing down their line and disseminating to the world. The theory went that Ozpin and Salem, since they had disappeared sometime in their daughters' reign, had in fact survived the centuries, and were now working their might to defend Remnant.

When Ozpin had heard this theory and brought it to his wife, she'd laughed for hours.

Time passed, and the legends grew…

 **oOo**

The sound of a whip cracked through the air as the man brought it down.

"Get moving, you filthy animals!" he shouted.

The collection of suffering was varied in their appearance, but all had the animal attributes of Faunus. The one that had sustained the whip's blow, a man with stripes and claws, howled in pain.

The slavers were deaf to the cries. As the group was led onto a ship to be taken down the coast, the leader of the band smirked. Business was good.

Suddenly, the sky darkened. Thunder rumbled through the air. A bolt of lightning shot down from the heavens and speared the ground nearby, throwing up a cloud of smoke.

A figure emerged from the smoke, her eyes glowing with anger.

"Gentlemen," Salem growled, "You have two seconds to run away and leave your prisoners behind."

One slaver pulled a dagger, clearly intending to throw it.

She thrust her spear into the ground. A fissure opened from the point of contact, widening and rushing forward. The earth opened beneath the slaver, and he fell into darkness with a cry.

The rest of the slavers, save the leader, rushed forward with swords ready and war cries piercing the air.

But a sphere of light encircled Salem, repelling all her attackers.

"You really should have run away," she said.

Lightning shot from her free hand, chaining through three of the slavers and putting them down. She thrust her spear forward, and a spike of ice appeared and shot right into the gut of a fourth.

The rest of the slavers quickly fell, until only the leader remained. He turned to run, but a purple aura coated him and he flew backwards, toward Salem. He floated in her mystical grip, whimpering in fear.

"You feel that? That fear as you are held captive by someone stronger than you? That's how you've been making those Faunus feel," Salem said, her voice like a winter wind, "Your product is suffering, and I gladly end it."

With a flick of her hand, the slaver was launched up and away. He would crash into the water about a mile out to sea, the impact shattering his arms and causing him to drown.

Salem began to walk toward the captive Faunus, then paused. She could feel a cold tickle in the back of her mind, and a gnawing pull at her gut.

There were Grimm nearby.

She'd been able to sense the presence of the dark creatures ever since her dip into the Brothers Grimm. It didn't surprise her. After all, she was at least half-Grimm herself now. She'd theorized that she might have been able to influence Grimm, maybe even control them to some degree, but she'd never really tried it. Then she acquired the Spear of Creation, and whatever ability she might have had had been thoroughly blunted. All she kept was the sensing ability. Still, it was a useful trick.

Without even looking, she knew that five black wolves were circling behind her. Salem raised her hand, and they were seized in her mystic grip. A snap of her fingers, and all five wolves bent over backwards, the cracks of their spines piercing the air.

"Too easy, sometimes," she said as she continued to walk toward the Faunus, ignoring the rapidly decaying Grimm corpses.

The Faunus flinched at her approach, but she smiled at him.

"There is no need to fear me. You are children of Remnant, same as any other. Only evil things need fear me."

She stretched out her spear and tapped a link in the chains. A pulse of golden light shot through the chains binding them together, and the metal turned to water and sloughed off their limbs.

"Go. You are free."

The Faunus bowed to her as they rushed away, thanks falling from their lips. They grabbed the weapons of the fallen slavers, in case of more Grimm, as they rushed into the forest.

One Faunus in particular made her pause. She was much younger than the others, comparatively a child. She rushed closer and hugged Salem around the middle.

"Thank you," she said in a soft voice.

Salem gave her a brief squeeze in return before ushering her to follow her brethren. She watched them go, a feeling of righteousness washing over her.

Heroism felt good.

Salem turned on her heel, and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

 **oOo**

Salem crept into her castle, glad to be home.

"Honey, I'm home."

She strode to her personal quarters, slipping off her shoes and putting her spear in a rack by the door as she entered.

"Good day today, I think. Helped a few Huntsman teams in the wild, and I killed some slavers. I do hope that Faunus slave trade disappears soon, I'm getting a little tired of it. I suppose the stories of what I do to slavers will cut down on the overall number, but still…"

She slipped into the washroom and cleaned herself up a bit. With a wave of her hand, her black garb vanished off her body and reappeared in a bin to be washed later.

"I think I'll fly by Vale tomorrow. Or maybe visit the memorial we made to our daughters. I haven't decided yet. I suppose I'll know more in the morning."

She slipped on a nightgown as she talked.

"I think my brutality was moderate today. I gave everything a clean kill and didn't stop to marvel in the blood. I do know how you worry."

She paused, and turned to the painting on her wall. Her beloved's second face stared back at her.

"I do miss you, my white knight. I hope we will be reunited soon."

She walked up to the painting and gave it a gentle kiss.

"Good night, my love."

As she slipped into bed, she mused to herself on the strangeness of her marriage.

Even with the promise of eventual reunion, the years without him, where he was between incarnations, were the hardest. And even when he did reincarnate, he often stayed away until he fully integrated into his new body, longer if the body was on the young side.

But no matter what face he wore, he was still her Ozma. Her husband's mere presence was a calming influence on her, and the years without him were rougher on her. It had been a good day today, but not all of her days were so good.

Often, she found herself slipping into a more bloodthirsty mindset. The Spear's influence helped her, and she quickly caught herself, but they happened all the same. Whenever it happened, she usually went out hunting. Grimm would fall before her in droves as she purged the violent thoughts from herself. She rarely targeted human threats when she got bloody, but when she did, she saved the worst of her rage for the worst offenders. Murderers, slavers, rapists, those were the types that got flayed alive when she was in her darker moods.

But when she did kill humans in her darker moods, she always felt _less_. She worked so hard to master herself, but without her beloved, she often ended up in a rut. She just felt smaller and weaker when he wasn't around, more full of doubt that she would be able to hold onto her humanity.

An outsider might deem it unhealthy that Salem was tying so much of her self-worth to another person. Salem would scoff and tell that outsider that they didn't have her past.

She'd been alone for a long time. She'd despised it then, she despised it now, she'd always despise it. The only difference nowadays was that she had assurances that loneliness was temporary.

When they were together, they felt alive. When they were apart, they felt deader inside.

 **oOo**

The King of Vale sat in his tent, staring at a map and grumbling.

"What is wrong, Ozpin? You glare at that map like you want it to spontaneously combust."

Ozpin turned and saw his wife stepping out of a cloud of mist.

"It's this war…"

Salem hummed in understanding.

A philosophical movement had taken hold in Mantle. The belief was that, since Grimm were attracted to emotions, keeping emotions in check would keep Grimm away. This had led to abolishment of the arts and the repression of self-expression.

It was a foolish idea. Grimm were attracted to emotions, true, but negative emotions drew them far easier than positive ones. Destroying the arts, that which gave people hope and made life worth living, would only bring depression and anxiety in society. That bred negativity, and with negativity came the Grimm. Besides which, Grimm were relentless, and the second a smarter one detected signs of civilization, it would rally its fellows to make a play for it.

Societal repression was a bad idea, and Salem had warned Mantle's leaders as such. But an idea, even a bad one, is difficult to destroy. The idea spread to Mantle's close ally, Mistral, which enforced similar rules in the outer territories of the kingdom.

And then Vale had the courage to cry foul, to decry the attempts to put security over freedom. Vale had always had a problem with some of the actions of the Mantle/Mistral alliance. Salem could sympathize, given how often she found herself in Mistral, dealing with mistreatment of citizens or slave labor. The anti-arts movement was another strike against the other kingdom.

And then Mistral tried to settle areas of Sanus, enforcing their rules on an unwilling land. And that was the last straw. Ozpin had tried to avoid armed conflict, but tensions finally snapped, and the Great War had begun.

For five years it had raged now. Vacuo had forged an alliance with Vale to combat Mantle and Mistral, worried that the two powerful kingdoms might come for them next and willing to put their trust in Vale.

But hate and conflict brought Grimm. And the world seemed to be set aflame.

Salem knew that these years had weighed heavily on her husband. She did the best she could to ease his burden. During the Shon Offensive, she appeared on the battlefield and devastated the Mistral army. The sight of the legendary Black Queen throwing her lot in with Vale filled the kingdom with vigor, igniting a powerful fighting spirit. Salem had gone from battlefield to battlefield, keeping the Grimm off Vale and Vacuo forces and turning the tides of battle where she made her stand. But powerful as she was, fast as she could move, she was but one person.

Times like this, Salem and Ozpin were reminded that, despite having portrayed themselves as such early on, they were not gods. They could do much, but not everything. They could move fast, but they couldn't be everywhere.

And so the war raged…

"I wonder sometimes what we're even doing," Ozpin said, "The endgame was for humanity to live in harmony, but I look out at the fires raging in the world and I wonder if it's an impossible goal."

Salem walked over and gently hugged him.

"Despair isn't a good look on you, my white knight."

She pulled back, looking at him with love in her eyes.

"Look past the blood and toil and see what has been accomplished. Territories and people who had lived under the yoke of an unjust rule have been liberated. The slave trade we've worked so hard to snuff out is being demolished. And two kingdoms that had little in common before are now united against a common threat. If that isn't some form of harmony…"

Ozpin gave a short laughed.

"How is you that you always know how to lift my spirit?"

"Darling, we've been married for longer than anyone else could imagine. I have _plenty_ of experience."

She leaned in and kissed his grizzled cheek.

"Now let's save the world."

A man in armor rushed into the tent.

"My King, I bring-"

He paused a moment, struck silent at the sight of the Black Queen standing very close to his ruler. In the back of his mind, he wondered if this was why the King had never married.

"Something wrong, Sir Arc?"

The knight shook himself before replying.

"Sir, a messenger arrived from the north."

"A messenger?" Ozpin asked, confusion covering his face, "From the north?"

"Was he from Mistral? Or Mantle?" Salem asked.

"Neither, she's from Mecca."

Sir Arc handed over a bound scroll to Ozpin. The king unfurled it and read it over quickly, Salem looking over his shoulder. Both stiffened in shock.

"A regiment?" Salem gasped.

"Supplies, magi, an armed cavalry," Ozpin read, "They're giving us aid. The troops will be here within seven days!"

Salem began to cackle.

"I can get them here in five. I'll fly out and clear their way."

She gave Ozpin a brief hug.

"This could be the turning point."

She rushed out of the tent, still laughing. Soldiers' heads turned to see a legendary figure whooping with joy before launching into the air on a column of smoke. It was a sight none of them would ever forget.

 **oOo**

Salem had been right. History books would tell of a storm that swept down from the continent of Draconis to lay waste to Mantle and Mistral. Mecca throwing its gauntlet into the ring injected much needed energy into Vale's war machine.

The war lasted another two years, but soon came to an end in Vacuo. Mantle and Mistral, desperate to cut supplies off from Vale, had made a play for the Dust mines of Vacuo.

The forces of Vacuo, Vale, and Mecca were waiting for them. At their head was the Chieftainess of Vacuo, the King of Vale, and the Black Queen.

It would be the bloodiest battle of the war. The ground quaked, the sky shook, and Grimm surged among a sea of violence.

But when the smoke cleared, Vale and her allies stood triumphant…

In the aftermath, the five kingdoms met on the island of Vytal, the northernmost part of Sanus. The Black Queen stood guard over the meeting as the Vytal Treaty was hammered out.

The meetings minutes were published a few years after the treaty's signing. They detailed the debates over territory, the King of Vale laying out exactly what had been wrong with the anti-art movement, the Twin Queens of Mecca decrying Mantle for its mistreatment of Faunus, and the Black Queen losing her patience over the slavery dispute and informing the leaders of Mantle and Mistral that they could either abolish it or be gutted on the spot and damn the consequences.

"Salem no," the King of Vale had said.

"Salem YES!" was the reply.

But what many considered to be the greatest triumph was the establishment of a more streamlined and united Huntsmen system. Before, the academies operated independently of each other, causing wildly different styles and levels of readiness. The King of Vale established new rules that would be the cornerstone of the new Huntsmen Association. The academies of Beacon, Haven, Shade, Atlas, and Twilight were established, with new interconnectivity between them, to better serve as humanity's shield against the Grimm.

The King of Vale would leave no heirs, instead creating the council system that would reign over his kingdom for the foreseeable future. The system would later be adopted by the other kingdoms.

Documented evidence of the Black Queen left Salem unable to work from afar. The light had been shined on the shadows she worked on, so she adapted, beginning to act more openly. She spent the first years after the war as a trouble-shooter, helping uphold the Vytal Treaty. After Ozpin's death, she often found herself observing the Huntsmen academies, occasionally lending her expertise. She found it a good way to spend her time whilst waiting for her husband…

 **oOo**

Nicholas Schnee rubbed at his eyes, sighing.

"What time is it?" he muttered to himself.

Checking the clock, he found it at eight-thirty.

"Feels later…I'm getting old."

"You still look good, in my opinion."

Nicholas jumped and shouted out, spinning in his chair to face the corner behind him.

A black-clad woman with white skin and hair melted out of the shadows.

"Nicholas Schnee. I trust you know who I am."

"The Black Queen," he all but whispered.

"Yes, my reputation gets everywhere these days," she replied, walking around his desk and flicking at the scattered papers, "As does yours. Working hard, I see."

"Planning for the future," Nicholas said.

"Fitting then, that I come to speak of the future."

A chair formed itself out of shadows across from the desk, and the Black Queen sat in it.

"Your company is very influential. Your Dust has made its way all over the world. You must have given thought as to what will happen after your death."

"Well…Your Majesty?"

"Let's drop the formalities, call me Salem."

"Salem then. I have been giving it some thought, lately. My son-in-law is clearly angling for it."

"Yes, he took your family's name," Salem said, "A way to kiss up to you, I think."

"It was transparent, and I'm not a fool," Nicholas said, "But, he's been good to my daughter, and he'd be an excellent choice to take over after I'm gone. He has a good head for business, and a cunning mind."

"Good on paper, perhaps. I feel it would be a mistake."

"What do you mean?" Nicholas asked, one eyebrow raised.

"I have a talent for uncovering secrets," Salem explained, "And the Huntsmen Association is happy to aid me in regards to intelligence."

She flicked her wrist, and a file folder appeared in her hand. She opened and perused it.

"Observed traits indicate that Jacques Schnee is an egotist. He is arrogant and vindictive, often apathetic to others. Theorized motivations: wealth and power. Concerned with reputations. Possibly controlling. Cold and calculating, but a dash of temper has been observed."

Salem looked up, a grim smile on her face.

"This one is my favorite: reportedly claimed distaste for Faunus in private company, expressed belief that they should be treated as second-class at best, slaves at worst. Apparently disdainful of the Equal Rights movements in Mistral."

Salem closed the folder with a snap.

"You are of course free to do your own investigations, but that is what I and my associates found. I do not doubt that he would keep your company prosperous. As I said, good on paper. But I wonder of the cost to others if he is given too much power. That Faunus bit alone…if it's accurate, he alone could set relations back by a hundred years."

Salem set the folder on the desk before a white-faced Nicholas.

"My advice, look into the possibility of making your daughter the heir. She is far more likely to share your values."

Nicholas swallowed harshly, then tapped the folder.

"How accurate is this?"

Salem gave him a small smile.

"Why don't you find out? Don't just take my word for it. After all, a good leader listens to multiple sources so he might make the best decision."

Nicholas sighed.

"I don't suppose you have an idea of where to start?"

"Speak with Archibald Ironwood at Atlas. He was my main contact in this investigation, and he'd be in the best position to help. I wish you the best of luck."

Then Nicholas blinked and Salem was gone, chair and all.

But the folder was still there…

Over the next several months, Nicholas would launch a quiet investigation into his son-in-law, and found little that contradicted what Salem had brought him. While Jacques was an excellent businessman, he cared more for the bottom line rather than the people involved in it.

He would leave the Schnee Dust Company to his daughter, but appointed Jacques as an important advisor, intent on using his business expertise to some advantage.

 **oOo**

Ozpin sat down in the chair. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

The office he was in was large, and he could feel the weight of what it represented pressing down. Others might feel a bit overwhelmed by it. He though? It was strangely invigorating.

"Well, well, well. Headmaster Ozpin."

Ozpin turned to see his wife stepping out of the shadows.

"How does it feel to have the big job?" Salem asked.

"Honestly? It feels good."

Salem laughed a bit, stepping forward to put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm happy for you. I know you've been working towards this for a long time."

"Thank you. Hopefully, I'll be up to the task."

"I'm sure you will. And I'll be behind you every step of the way."

Ozpin took her hand off his shoulder and kissed it.

"Together through eternity," he said, echoing a line that was in their marriage vows.

"Always," she replied with a smile, "So, what's first on the agenda, _Headmaster?_ "

"Appointing a new deputy," he replied, "I have someone in mind. We should introduce you, if you're going to keep popping in."

"True. Best we do it now rather than later, so we don't spook the poor thing."

 **oOo**

Domestic abuse was not a new sight. Many times, Salem had been lured by cries to the heart-wrenching sight of a young child's mistreatment. Usually, she'd stop the action with great force, drop the scum who would raise a hand against a child off with the proper authorities, and ensure the child would be taken care of. It was nothing new, as much as she might wish otherwise.

However, the sight before her was new.

Blood streaked the room. Glass shards embedded every surface. The small girl stood in the center of it all, covered in blood splatters and bruises. Her painful thinness and her black eye told just how well her parents had treated her. Said parents were long cold, dead by a thousand cuts. By Salem's reckoning, the girl's Semblance had awakened from stress, as it sometimes did, and that awakening was a violent one. Every bit of glass in the area had broken and swarmed her attackers, killing them swiftly.

' _But hopefully not too painlessly_ ,' Salem thought grimly.

As for the girl, it seemed like she hadn't moved an inch since the event, her amber eyes still fixed on the carnage before her. She hadn't even turned her head at Salem's approach, glass crunching beneath the woman's boots.

"Little one? Are you in pain?" Salem asked softly.

The girl slowly shook her head.

"Why don't you come with me? We'll get you looked at, just in case."

"Are you going to punish me?" the girl said in a hollow voice.

Salem didn't bother to ask what for. The reason was hard to miss.

"Do you think you should be?"

"They hurt me," was the reply, and Salem's heart broke a little, "They hurt me so much. I just wanted it to stop."

The little girl's voice hitched.

"I just wanted it to stop…"

Salem wrapped her arms around the girl even as she collapsed, wailing in anguish and terror.

She would take the girl back to Beacon to be overlooked by the doctors there. The girl barely spoke through the whole thing, only stating that her name was Cinder.

Ozpin found his wife waiting on the doctors, nervously tapping her spear on the floor. A nurse passed by, giving her a wide berth.

"Dear? Can you put away that spear? You're scaring the nurses."

Salem's face didn't change, but she did twist the spear. It shrank in size until it became a stick small enough to fit in her pocket. But she didn't stow it away, just kept spinning the stick, full of nervous energy.

Ozpin sat down beside her, wrapping an arm around her.

"They locked her away," Salem finally said, "I saw locks on a cellar, and signs of habitation down there. They kept her locked up, isolated. She only ever knew their cruelty."

And Ozpin suddenly got it. It wasn't just that this little girl had been hurt. It was that her story was so similar to Salem's own. Locked away by her cruel father, guarded to prevent anyone from freeing her. It wasn't until a noble knight had braved the castle and won that Salem had been free.

"If we do nothing, she will hate," Salem continued, "Rage over all this will fester in her. Without love, she will sink into darkness. I know it could happen. She's like me. We can't let it happen."

"We won't."

"We can't…we have to do it. _We_ have to show her the light."

Salem looked over at her husband face soft.

"We could be what those creatures couldn't."

And then Ozpin understood what else Salem had been nervous about. She was wondering if she could be a parent again.

The deaths of their daughters had caused a grief that had nearly broken them. Only the knowledge that they would be together through the ages in one form or another had held them together. Regardless, neither Salem nor Ozpin had been in any hurry to have any more children.

But the feeling of being a mother was still in Salem's heart, and once in a while, she missed it. This Ozpin knew, he sometimes felt the same. But they hadn't broached the subject in so long.

Fate, it seemed, had broached it for them.

And the more Ozpin thought about it, the less hesitation he felt. Finally, he nodded.

"If she'll have us."

Soon after, the two went to see young Cinder. Her eyes were wary, but they made slow movements as they calmly explained that they wished to care for her.

"Why?" Cinder asked, her voice full of suspicion and bitterness.

Rather than directly answer, Ozpin asked a question back.

"What is your favorite fairy tale?"

"I don't know any."

"That's terrible. So, let me tell you the story of The Girl in the Tower."

Ozpin continued to speak, his voice even as he wove an abridged version of the day he and Salem met. Cinder was enraptured, but when Ozpin had finished, she asked what the point was.

Which was the cue for Salem to stick her hand out.

"Hello. I was the Girl in the Tower. It's nice to meet you."

Cinder gawked at her.

"You had a cellar, I had a tower. But the main beat of the story is similar. You're like me, lonely and desperate for love. I want to offer you that love. I know what you've gone through, and I want to help. So I ask you, can you take a leap of faith?"

Salem kept her hand out. Slowly, Cinder reached out and grasped it.

"Are you really going to be my mom?" she asked, her voice quivering and her amber eyes filled with hope.

Salem smiled at her.

"Welcome home, Little Spark."

 **oOo**

Summer Rose swore that if she got out of this, she'd never take solo missions again. Qrow could suck it up and let her close, bad luck be damned.

Her Aura was in the red, her arm was dripping with blood, and she was still surrounded by Grimm. The Beowolves licked their jaws in anticipation.

"Alright then," she grunted, "What are you waiting for? _Come and get me, you bastards!_ "

As the Grimm rushed forward, Summer thought of her daughters.

"Sorry Ruby. Sorry Yang. Mommy's not coming home…"

And then lightning came down from the heavens, striking and incinerating multiple Grimm at once. And then spikes of earth erupted upward, encircling Summer and protecting her. And then a cry pierced the air from above her.

"You shall NOT!"

More lightning came down, and Summer managed to look up, squinting in the flashes. She saw a black shape in the air.

In a flash, she realized what it was.

Soon, the lightning stopped. The earth lowered. A black-cloaked form touched the ground before her.

"Are you alright, Huntress?"

Summer did her best to bow, but the Black Queen urged her back up.

"Please, warriors need not bow to me. I ask again, are you alright?"

"I will be," Summer said, adrenaline slipping away, "Thank you. I can see my daughters again. Thank you."

The Queen smiled a bit. It struck Summer how human she seemed. She'd seen her in the distance at Beacon a few times, but had never interacted with her.

"I know what a mother feels for her children. Your family will be glad to have you back."

Then she frowned.

"You have silver eyes."

"Yes," Summer said slowly, "What about them?"

"Are you aware of the legend surrounding silver-eyed warriors?"

"I've heard it. It's not true though, right? It's just a story."

"Before the Great War _, I_ was considered a story," the Black Queen laughed, "No, the power of the silver eyes is real. I've encountered such warriors in the past. Perhaps I could tell you about them, give you a path toward unlocking your true power."

Summer blinked in shock.

"That…that might actually be good."

"Then come. We will get you home, I will meet these daughters of yours, and we will see what can be taught…"

Summer nodded, smiling.

"Lead the way, My Queen."

"Please…call me Salem."

 **oOo**

"Times like this, I pine for the days when idiots like this could be killed and be done with it," Salem growled.

She and Ozpin were observing a news report about a series of violent attacks.

" _The fringe Faunus supremacist movement known as the White Fang has claimed responsibility for the attacks,"_ the anchor was saying, _"A video was released by the group's apparent leader, Adam Taurus, claiming that they act for the benefit of all Faunus. This claim has been denounced by leaders in the Faunus community. Professor and activist Ghira Belladonna was heard calling Taurus 'a violent sociopath with no idea the harm he's causing.'"_

"Agreed," Salem said, "Things for Faunus have been improving since the Great War. Vale has had equal rights for the past century, Vacuo and Mecca even longer. Mistral isn't at the same level, but they're getting there. The only holdout is Atlas, because aside from Schnee Dust, most of them are stubbornly conservative. Actions like the White Fang's help no one. What's the modern slang? How is this even a thing?"

"The Vale Council agrees," Ozpin said, looking up from his scroll, "They've officially labeled the White Fang a terrorist cell. I just got a message from Councilman Thawne, we're a go."

"A go?"

"I can now devote more resources to finding and tracking the White Fang down. Mr. Torchwick is going to be happy to have the extra help, I'm sure. The second I find news on Taurus' whereabouts, I'll slip it to you and you can deal with him yourself. Just make sure it looks like an accident, we don't need him becoming a martyr."

Ozpin loved his wife, he really did. But sometimes, she did something that reminded him of the primal force of destruction that hid behind the loving and civilized woman.

The grin that Salem gave was one such 'something'. The last time he'd seen a smile like that, it had been at an aquarium, and there'd been a fin atop it.

 **oOo**

Ruby Rose could barely contain her excitement. She was here, an incoming Beacon student, and two years early!

Beside her, her sister, Yang Xiao Long, gave off a fond smile. Despite all the meditative techniques their mom had taught her, Ruby was still prone to bursts of hyperactivity. Maybe it was her Semblance…

Ruby spun in place several times, wanting to take it all in. The buildings, the people, the amazing weapons, the charge in the air. This was it! Her dream was coming true!

She was so excited, she almost tripped over a cart of white cases.

As she pinwheeled her arms and got herself steady, she heard a yelp from the side.

"Watch it!"

Ruby turned to see a pale girl with snow-white hair and white clothes. The girl gave a sigh of relief when she saw Ruby stabilizing herself.

"Thank goodness. Those boxes were full of Dust. That could have been messy."

Ruby whipped her head between the girl and the cases, even as a porter pulled the cases away.

"That's a lot of Dust. That your thing? You're a Dust Mage?"

"And a fine one if I do say so myself," the girl replied with a hint of smugness, "One of my tutors was a magi, and she claimed I could equal many of her tricks given proper preparation."

"A tutor, cases full of Dust, and some upscale-looking clothes?" Yang chimed in, "You must be pretty rich, princess."

"It's heiress, actually."

The three turned to see an approaching young woman. Her black hair blended with her black clothes, making her amber eyes stand out. Atop her head were a pair of cat ears.

"Weiss Schnee, Heiress to the Schnee Dust Company."

"Well, that explains those," Ruby muttered looking at the retreating cases.

"Ah, some recognition," Weiss smiled.

"The same Schnee Dust that's been facing several lawsuits concerning questionable business practices and mistreatment of Faunus workers," the Faunus finished.

"That has nothing to do with me or my mother!" Weiss snapped, "That's all on that weasel that calls himself my father! When I found out what he'd let happen, I was sick to my stomach!"

"Relax, I'm just testing you. I wanted to see if you took more after your mother than _him_. How's the divorce proceedings going, by the way?"

"Should have happened years ago," Weiss grumbled, "And you are?"

"Blake Belladonna, of the Vytal Belladonnas."

Yang snapped her fingers.

"Of course, the professor and activist! That's why you seemed familiar. I've seen you pictured with your dad."

"Equal rights is as much my passion as it is his," Blake said, smiling, "It's why I decided to become a Huntress, spread hope and fight the darkness. Maybe I'll see it actually settle in Atlas in my lifetime."

"Good luck," Weiss said bitterly, "Atlas is slow to change, it's why I'm here instead of there. There just aren't enough people that care up there."

"Since we're sharing names and backstories, Yang Xiao Long," Yang said, pointing at herself before laying her arm across Ruby's shoulders, "This is my sister, Ruby Rose."

"Our mom's a Huntress, same as our Uncle Qrow," Ruby continued, "Dad's retired, but he still teaches it. We've known we wanted to follow in their footsteps for ages."

"Wait, Rose?" Blake asked, "As in Summer Rose, the White Nightmare?"

Ruby nodded excitedly.

"The same Summer Rose that spearheaded the Battle of Mountain Glenn and helped the Black Queen slay the Grimm Dragon?" Weiss added, her face full of shock.

Yang grinned and laughed.

"Great tundra, your mother's a legend!"

"You should taste her cookies!" Ruby laughed.

"We've heard the stories, but she's always just been Mom to us," Yang said.

"Did you ever meet the Black Queen?" Blake said, a hint of awe in her voice.

"Once or twice," Ruby said, "She looks scary, but she's super nice. She lets me call her Salem. I think it's her real name."

Blake and Weiss just stared at her.

"Why so stunned?" Yang asked, pointing at Weiss and Blake in turn, "You're the heiress to one of the richest companies on the planet, and your dad is such a crusader for equal rights that many credit the downturn of the White Fang after Adam Taurus' death, as well as the equal rights laws in Mistral, to him! It's not like you're not exceptional people."

"So, why do you two have different last names?" Weiss asked, eager to change the subject and rest her brain from the shock.

"Same dad, different moms, biologically speaking," Yang shrugged, "Honestly, I never knew Raven, but if Mom's stories are true, it's probably best I didn't. Summer's been my mom for as long as I can remember."

"And Raven really missed out on an awesome family," Ruby added, giving Yang a side hug.

"You two are certainly close," Blake smiled, "Makes me wish I had a sibling."

"At the rate we seem to be bonding, I wouldn't be surprised if we ended up on the same team," Weiss snarked.

"That'd certainly be funny," Ruby giggled.

"I suppose it would, but Initiation would have to come first."

Four heads whipped around to a newcomer dressed in a Beacon uniform, her amber eyes flicking between them and her watch.

"By my count, you four are going to be late for the opening ceremony."

The four younger girls winced, but the upperclassman just laughed.

"Relax, rookies. I'll guide you to the auditorium. I've heard complaints that it's easy to get turned around in this place, and we wouldn't want you to be late"

"Thank you, Miss," Weiss began, waving her hand expectantly.

"Oh, you can call me Cinder. Now let's get a move on. I know a shortcut."

"Convenient," Yang snarked.

"I know this campus like the back of my hand," Cinder laughed, "My parents are teachers, so I practically grew up here."

 **oOo**

On the video footage, Ruby Rose ran up the side of a cliff thanks to Weiss Schnee's glyphs, dragging a massive black bird up via her scythe. At the top, the bird's neck finally gave way, and the beast was decapitated.

"Impressive," Ozpin said.

"It was more impressive in person," Salem replied, "I congratulated Ruby on her victory before vanishing. She seemed surprised to see me."

"You do tend to come out of nowhere. I, however, question how an Elder Nevermore ended up in the forest…"

"I did my best to clear out the higher level Grimm, but you know Nevermores tend to travel long distances regularly. It probably flew in last night went no one was looking."

Ozpin hummed and sipped his coffee.

"I think those four girls will definitely be on the same team," he finally said, "Between their performance together and that bonding Cinder observed, we'd be remiss in our duties not to put them together."

"I think it's more than that," Salem replied, "Those four have a touch of destiny about them. I think they'd find a way together no matter what we did."

"Perhaps…you observed in person. What do you make of young Ruby as a choice for leader?"

"She's young, but rather more stable than I would have expected at that age. Summer's influence, no doubt. And she saw the angles. She saw all the pieces on the board, devised a plan, delegated tasks, and executed her strategy perfectly. All within a short frame of time. And none of the other three questioned her orders for a second. Even if she didn't become a leader, she'd definitely be the team tactician, which would put her in a leader-like position regardless of who was actually in charge. She has the spark, Ozpin, the same spark our eldest had, that Cinder has. Ruby Rose will be a terrific leader, if given the chance."

"Then the only thing holding her back is age and lack of experience, both of which are easily remedied," Ozpin concluded, "Very well."

He shifted his fingers across his desk's touch screen, putting four pictures together.

"Ruby Rose, Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladonna, Yang Xiao Long…Team RWBY, led by Ruby Rose."

Salem smiled a bit.

"This could be the start of something great."

 **oOo**

Their world wasn't perfect. There was still fear, hate, and violence. People still took advantage of each other. There was still chaos.

But it was better than it once was. Five Kingdoms stood tall, beacons of light in the dark. Humanity had defenders. People still helped one another where they could. There was life and laughter and love.

Light still shone.

Ozpin and Salem gazed out at Beacon, watching the bustle below, youth buoyed by dreams, embers waiting to blaze against the dark.

The world wasn't perfect, but neither was life. Life was messy, it crashed together and struggled. But there was beauty in it all.

With their arms around each other, the two looked toward the future, curious what shape it would take.

But one thing was for sure: they had love. They had so much love in their life.

And nothing could take that away.


End file.
